


Cover You

by MaeveElemora



Series: Canon? Never Heard of Her // AKA, Mae's Collection of RiVer Fics [4]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Found Family, Idiots in Love, Randy deserves the whole fuckin' world and my god i am going to give it to him, Slice of Life, basically him reflecting on V helping him through it as a fellow survivor, if you think for one second that i wrote ALL THIS just to spoil my fictional son, non-graphic mentions of Randy's recovery, then you're absolutely correct i did and im very pleased w myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28379499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeveElemora/pseuds/MaeveElemora
Summary: "You know, when I first won this baby in a race, I knewexactlywhere she deserved to be." V's smile is a soft curve at her lips, her thumb running affectionate circles against Randy's knee as she shifts her gaze to River. "Knew she'd never have a better home than being in the hands of a good man trying to make a difference." River looks up to give her a loving smirk, one cheek puffed up with food."Please," Randy laughs, warmth coloring his tone. "You only handed it over because you thought his ass was cute."—So... those of you who have read my previous RiVer works know that, in my canon, V moves out of her apartment and the gang spends their days riding around in the Mackinaw Beast saving the day. But, in true RPG fashion, every group of heroes needs their own hub. It's time for NC's best PI team to find theirs.Alternatively titled, "If I Don't Get the Fuck Out of This Truck I Will Kill Someone—A Novel by Randal Ward."
Relationships: Female V/River Ward, V/River Ward
Series: Canon? Never Heard of Her // AKA, Mae's Collection of RiVer Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067339
Comments: 22
Kudos: 92





	Cover You

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd like a visual aid for the building described in this fic, ive attached a pic (that i, by some miracle, was able to throw together on mobile) to my post for this fic on my tumblr:
> 
> https://maeveelemora.tumblr.com/post/638732492699992064/cover-you-maeveelemora-cyberpunk-2077-video
> 
> also!! the title comes from the song of the same name by The Hunna!!! it's been my theme song of sorts for these three for a while now and i cant recommend listening to it enough

"We need an office."

There's a disbelieving scoff from the front of the truck. "Are you implying that the Beast is somehow _lacking_?" Even though she's talking around a mouthful of breakfast, V's offense is clear.

Randy cracks open a bleary eye. As good as the cold glass feels, the soft light of the impending dawn pushing at the horizon makes the half of his face that's not pushed up against the window twitch with an annoyed frown. "I deserve an office. With a real desk. And the thickest blackout curtains money can buy."

"And give up this freedom?" V smacks the steering wheel in front of her with the hand not currently cradling her burrito. "Five tons of steel parked on a racing suspension that'd put a Shion MZ2 to shame. A bullet-proof, mobile command center that goes from zero to sixty in under four seconds."

"You know what's really great about the office buildings in Night City?" Randy waits until V makes eye contact with him in the rearview. "Most of them come with a parking garage attached."

"I never thought I'd hear such blasphemy from a fellow anarchist." V turns around in her seat to push at Randy's leg. "Think about how cool this is! Runnin' and gunnin' at a second's notice, nothin' but wind in our hair while we're chasin' down the lost and broken."

Randy rolls his eyes and takes another quick sip of his coffee. "You two can have all the run and gun you want. What _I_ want is my ass cradled by a disgustingly expensive leather chair while I kick back in temperature controlled luxury." Hoping for some backup, Randy lifts his head to look at his uncle. "Help me out here, Riv—"

"Nuh-uh," River interrupts, the back of his hand hovering over his mouth as he finishes up a bite of his second burrito. "Nope. I am not involved."

"You know, when I first won this baby in a race, I knew _exactly_ where she deserved to be." V's smile is a soft curve at her lips, her thumb running affectionate circles against Randy's knee as she shifts her gaze to River. "Knew she'd never have a better home than being in the hands of a good man trying to make a difference." River looks up to give her a loving smirk, one cheek puffed up with food.

" _Please_ ," Randy laughs, warmth coloring his tone. "You only handed it over because you thought his ass was cute."

"Actually, it was the calves that did me in. But you're not wrong." V leans over to wipe up the sauce at the corner of River's mouth, leading to him immediately licking it off her thumb.

Randy makes a point to silently, and dramatically, gag in V's peripherals. " _Anyways_. Back on the subject at hand."

"Alright," she concedes and focuses back on Randy. " _What_ could an office give us that the Beast can't?"

"A bathroom, for starters, followed very closely in importance by a desk. More than three inches of legroom. Fucking _shelves_."

"She's not _that_ cramped."

Randy doesn't even bother replying, opting instead to gesture accusingly at the back of the truck. The other two-thirds of the bench seat he's sitting on is overflowing with tech. Both his mobile rigs, their collection of BD wreaths, three separate boxes filled with cyberdecks and quickhacks by the handfuls. _V's_ mobile rig, for when Randy needs hardline access, is on the floor, leaning against the box of grenades they keep behind the passenger seat. 

There's a universal charging cord running up the backseat that leads to the power cell they've got in the cargo bay. A cargo bay that _used_ to be the exterior truckbed, until they converted it to give themselves more storage. The power cell itself, however, is so far buried under all the crafting components and combat gear stuffed back there that it's going to take at least ten minutes to uncover it next time they need to swap it out.

"Alright," V concedes with a wince, her eyes roaming over the chaos that is their life. "Maybe we do need an office."

"Somewhere with actual, decent space, right? No shoebox in Kabuki."

"No shoebox," she promises. "Something riding the edge of Santo and Westbrook, maybe. S'long as I don't have to smell corpo plaza on my morning commute, I can deal." V's nose scrunches up momentarily. A small shutter, one Randy isn't entirely sure is a joke, runs through her before the expression fades and she looks back over to River. "You got anything for the list of demands?"

River takes a moment to think, eyeing up what's left of V's breakfast. "You gonna finish that?"

"You already had _two_ large burritos."

"I'm a growing boy."

"A growing _dork_ , maybe," she says with a chuckle. "I'll trade you for a kiss."

Randy lets his head fall back against the window with a _thunk_. "Thick walls," he mutters. "Thick walls is the first requirement on the list."

—

The process isn't immediate, much to Randy's displeasure. Finding the right place that fits all their combined needs takes weeks. _Weeks_ of continuing to cram himself into the Beast day after day, one hand clinging to the handle on the roof as V drives around like it's her damn job to break every existing traffic law. After hours it's fun as hell, but when Randy's trying to break his way into sections of cyberspace people are trying to keep him out of, it's a _bit_ much.

Now though, standing in the middle of his very own office, hands relaxed in the pockets of his fraying Second Conflict jacket, it all seems worth it. Not just the past few weeks, but _all_ of it. 

Those long nights in the ICU after Harris where the only thing that kept him sane was the sound of his mom's voice. The gut-wrenching heart-to-hearts with River where admitting to how bad things had gotten between them felt like swallowing glass. The late-night drives and training sessions with V that always seemed to end with a breakdown that somehow left him feeling better, despite the way the words felt like hot ash crawling up out of his stomach.

All of it leading up to standing in the middle of a space that is entirely _his_. Not a spare trailer where he spends his days burying himself in every bad habit he can find, hoping like hell he collapses under the weight once and for all. But a private space all his own where he can take all the restless energy built up by the gnawing regrets and lingering demons and turn it into a wave of good. One that puts a dent in Night City's collective misery, even if it is just a little one.

He pivots on the heel of his combat boot, eyes taking in the finished layout. The collection of monitors on the wall, a greatly appreciated gift from Judy, went up like a dream. Intermingled with them is a fuckin' _preem_ set of speakers that are sure to get them a noise complaint by the months' end. The pieces of his previous setup from the Beast have been moved in, along with a brand new stationary rig. And all of it frames the genuine hardwood desk River and V surprised him with _beautifully_.

The glass door leading to the server room remains closed and the sight of it makes Randy want to groan. Just thinking about the amount of work he's going to have to put in to get it organized and running properly stirs up the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes. Opting to save it until later, he heads out of his office to poke his head through V's doorway across the hall.

Even as unpacked as it is, V's space is charming in its disorganized state. A real tinkerer's dream, every surface is reinforced metal, from the shelves to the workbenches, all the way to the desk pressed up against the wall by the door. The scattered boxes are all labeled, but a few quick glances tells Randy they probably shouldn't be trusted. There're ammo cartridges mixed in with armor mods, upgrade components scattered with scopes. And that's just the ones he can see from here. Not surprising in the least, the only finished part of it all is the Quadra posters plastered above her desk.

The door to the armory connecting V and River's office is closed and locked, at least. V might be her own kind of controlled chaos, but she knows when to lock down the important shit.

When there's no sign of V in her office, Randy pushes himself off her doorway and decides to see if River knows where she's at. He brings his hand up as he makes his way down the hall, fingers ghosting over the screamsheets and printed thank you letters they've put up on display. Originally hung up on the walls at home, Joss had suggested bringing the majority of them here.

"Keep them there as motivation," she'd said. "A little pick-me-up for Night City's favorite heroes when you guys need it most."

His chest warms at the thought of the pride in his mothers' voice. The warmth begins to spread when his eyes land on the print of the first thank you that was addressed to _him_ , personally.

 _Yan Shào_. Hadn't even reached her tenth birthday when she'd been grabbed. The gap-toothed smile in the picture her father gave them had been eerily reminiscent of Monique's. Randy hadn't been able to sleep the first three days on the case, just kept laying trap after trap on the net, hoping like hell that whatever sack of human shit had her was looking to sell.

Her recovery had been the first combat mission Randy had joined in the flesh. The first time he'd put those training nights at the range in V's old megabuilding to use.

"Hey, Randy, gimmie a hand, would ya?"

Leaning back to look through the doorway of River's office, Randy catches sight of his uncle moving the long leather couch away from the window.

"Thought you already decided where you wanted everything," he replies as he comes over to lift the other end.

"Yeah, well, that was before the glare coming off the building across the street nearly blinded me." With River guiding their movements, the two of them maneuver the couch until it's pressed against the wall perpendicular to the floor-to-ceiling window at the back of River's office. Next come the two matching chairs, followed up by the coffee table. "What do you think? Comforting enough for people coming to us on the worst day of their life?"

Definitely the 'client intake' section of their little business, River's office is built from the ground up with reassurance in mind. With the leather seating that looks like it would outdo most beds in the comfort department now tucked in along the wall, the rest of the room is warm and open. Plenty of room to breathe. Bracketing both doors and the back window, the walls are lined with bookshelves that'll end up holding all manner of distractions for distraught families. River's desk sits off to the right, the door to the armory no more than two steps behind it.

"Needs some of those motivational pillows. You know, the ones with that, 'it's darkest before the dawn' bullshit."

River reaches over to smack the back of Randy's head. "You could've just said _yes_ , shithead."

"Yeah, but that wouldn't have been nearly as fun."

Before River can continue to give Randy shit, the sound of a heavy _thump_ against the suite's front doors echoes down the hallway. Angling his head to look out through River's door, Randy catches sight of what looks suspiciously like...

"Is that a fuckin' _laser_?"

"Can't be a break-in," River mutters, already moving to make his way down the hall. "The people who want us gone aren't that subtle."

As the two of them get closer, the bright red laser cuts out on the other side of the frosted glass. "Stop!" V demands, her voice muffled by the doors. "I can see you two! Fuck off to the kitchen or something, I need a minute here."

"Do I even want to know where you got a laser?" River calls out, already heading towards the archway off to the left.

"I paid for it, officer, I swear!"

Randy follows after River with a laugh, immediately leaning against the counter after they make it inside the small, rectangular kitchen.

"How's that netrunner chair coming along?" River asks, arms crossing over his chest as he parks himself next to Randy.

"Not bad. Wasn't as big of a pain to assemble as I thought it'd be."

"Let me know if you end up needing to move it later. I know it's a bitch to move by yourself. I'm down to help out whenever you need."

"I think I like where it's at for now. But ho-ly _fuck_ am I going to take you up on that when I start in on the server room."

"Still sweatin' it, huh?"

Randy reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose with a resigned groan. "It's going to be so much fuckin' _work_."

"You've got this," River insists, arm wrapping around his shoulders to bring Randy into his side for a tight hug. "This shit is where you shine. Roll your eyes at me all you want, punk, but you don't fool me. I see the pride and dedication in you when you get in that zone of yours."

Randy pushes at River's side with an embarrassed huff, but... yeah. He can admit to himself that his pain in the ass uncle is right. He _does_ feel proud of himself when he's so honed into this weird little career they've carved out for themselves that everything just starts to _flow_.

The sound of the front doors opening is the only warning they get before V comes sliding into the kitchen's entryway moments later. "I. Am the fucking. _Coolest_."

"Yeah?" River asks with a laugh.

" _Oh_ , yeah. Come check this shit out." She takes each of their hands in her own and excitedly pulls them out of the kitchen. "Close your eyes," she demands as they come up on the doors. Following her instructions, Randy feels himself get pulled forward. A moment later, after he hears the sound of the doors being closed again, a hand on his shoulder spins him back around. "Okay—just—one second... alright. Open!"

As soon as he does, Randy sees it. There, perfectly symmetrical and spanning across both glass panes, is _Ward Investigations_ etched into the glass. Just below the big, bold letters is the tagline _Bringing Home The Lost_ in beautiful cursive.

"I still need to paint over it, but... yeah." V reaches out a hand to brush her finger just below the etching. "There it is. Our new life, all... professional and shit."

And, just like that, it just fuckin'... _hits_ Randy all over again how drastically their lives have changed. A little over a year ago, all three of them were closing in on their own versions of rock bottom. River and Joss were at each other's throats, the former unwittingly signing himself up for a crash course with forced retirement while the latter crumbled under the weight of raising three kids by herself in the wake of losing Randy's shithead father. V was unknowingly grinding her way up to the worst night of her life, and Randy was throwing himself headfirst into every ounce of trouble he could find, all in an effort to find some shred of escape from his own fucked up head.

But, somehow, one little job offer from a politician's wife set them all on a path to save each other from themselves. And now here they are, standing in front of the door to their new life as a real team. A real _family_ , taking on the city's lost and broken to help wherever they can.

Swept up in the emotion of it all, Randy turns to say something about how excited he is over it all. But when he turns to look at River and V, he's met with the sight of his uncle's fingers threaded through V's hair, his head bent down as he kisses her like she's the center of his whole fucking world.

Randy rolls his eyes and pushes the doors back open. "I'm forming my own HR department," he mutters to himself. "I'm going to file a complaint and then approve it myself."

He makes his way back inside his office and shucks off his jacket, tossing it onto his netrunner chair as he goes. Plopping himself into his top of the line, thousand eddies desk chair, he hits the _pour_ button on his personal coffee maker. While his mug fills to the brim with his favorite brew, Randy reaches his hand up to the room's enviro controls and selects the command for the blackout curtains to lower themselves over the glass wall.

The coffee maker sounds off with its happy, little chime after a minute and Randy takes his mug in hand, gently blowing at the surface before taking a short sip. He leans back in his chair, his feet coming up to rest on the corner of his desk as he lets out a contented sigh.

 _Yeah_ , he thinks to himself with a smile. _Yeah, this is the good shit._

**Author's Note:**

> it is 2am and i DESPERATELY needed to finish this before my replacement graphics card finally gets in tomorrow and i get distracted writing "my official canon" alongside my second playthrough.
> 
> as always, comments, requests, and feedback are always welcome!! <3
> 
> like seriously that shit is what keeps me going lmao
> 
> my love for this dumb lil team of private dicks grows by leaps and fuckin' bounds with each day. im glad some of y'all love them too bc i honestly can't get enough of writing them


End file.
